I have been following the journey of a group of women who are holding vigil as their honored elder, their beloved mentor is in the process of making her transition to the next awaiting adventure in the cosmos. I am deeply affected in a number of ways by my participation as somewhat of a bystander via a Facebook group, and especially by the depth and breadth of their love and respect for her.
That she is loved and adored is beyond question, that she leaves a rich and deep legacy of her teachings is clear, and that her journey is being honored is profoundly evident. Together, these sisters are painting her wooden ‘space ship’ with meaningful symbols and ‘coordinates’. Their spiritual life and knowing lends depth and meaning to every aspect of her life and her passing, and their love and their grief.
I am in a sense, holding vigil for my own father, although he is not at death’s door as she is. He won’t be here forever, or even perhaps for much longer. He is aging and increasingly infirm. She was not, she was ten years my elder and underwent a necessary surgery from which her brain did not emerge intact. One never knows. Never knows.
And so I am aware with myself and each of my loved ones, of the fleeting nature of our time here. I am highly conscious of the element of surprise in the passing of some souls, like my maternal grandmother, here one day, gone later that same day. Shocking and traumatic to the point that my mother lost fifteen pounds in three days. This dear soul is giving her tribe a few days to prepare, adjust…as if such things are actually possible in anticipating the impossible loss of such a precious one.
As a result of this powerful reminder, I am more present. I am saying the things that I want never to be left unsaid to my loved ones. I am having conversations with myself and with them…deep, meaningful, ‘otherwise what’s the point?’ conversations. I hear myself know and say quite clearly that I want to teach more, to groups of women who want my teachings and my guidance and my love. I know the Universe hears my request.
I tell my beloved what he means to me, I express to my children my appreciation and pride in them , I share my love and laughter and lightness with my young grandkids. And none of it will ever suffice to express the enormous depth of my love for them. Words fail here. Hopefully presence succeeds.
I am deeply in love with my husband, my children and my grandchildren, and I am trusting that my love and my message are etched into their hearts at this point. Overwhelming them with too many words is not my way… loving them to the fullness of my being, in ways that speak to them, is. I learned this from my own grandmother, referred to earlier. She passed when I was a mere four and a half years old and yet, she has shaped my life with her love, energy and ways until this very day as I approach my sixty-ninth birthday. She lived her love for me, and since we resided with her and my grandfather, I got dosed every single day.
I am painting, something I long for and do not do enough of to satisfy my soul…at least not yet. The one who is passing is the mentor of my own painting teacher and she is right this minute, inspiring the entire lineage of students from her physically inert, but spiritually expanded current state of being. We know not much about the passage from this plane of existence to the next as humans, but we do know that it can be rarified, transcendent, and deeply affecting for every soul with any energetic connection at all to the loved one. This passage is all that and more…
This is not about lessons learned. This is about the presence that is invited when we are willing to be aware moment-by-precious-moment of the treasure of every single minute on this planet with the souls we adore and stand with and love.
That is all. Be present. Speak your truth. Let your love flow unhindered. Take joy in all of it…now.
How has holding vigil, loss, grief affected your moment-to-moment presence? Please share your thoughts in the Comments section below.
Thank you for being here and reading. I appreciate your presence.
I love you.
Janice Masters, The Shaman Mama
www.JaniceMasters.com
PS Hours after I received news that this dear one had passed, I got the very clear intuitive message that she and my own beloved mentor from decades ago are members of the same soul group. I had been pondering who she reminded me of, energetically and in appearance, and then I got it. And the connection was sweet, deep and meaningful. So many levels of experience are available to us when we are willing to be in the numinous, transcendent, cosmic flow.
To arrange for an Intuitive Reading or Private Coaching/Mentoring with me send me an email to: janmmiami at gmail.com
#vigil #death #dying #grief #sisterhood #family #love #loss #spirit #spiritual #art #presence #lineage #painting
What a beautiful post. Thank you so much.
I am happy that it moved you, Linda. Thanks for reading and commenting. Love!
So beautiful and yet poignant. I know so many who are grieving the passage of loved ones. When we “close the spaces” by saying and doing what’s in our hearts, with love, we have an easier time letting go of the physical and perhaps stay connected more easily with the metaphysical. Such a valuable post, Jan. Thank you. _/:\_
Forrest, I agree with your thought about our authentic presence and actions keeping us connected to the other levels of reality. The open-heartedness renders us eminently available for these precious experiences. Thank you, my dear friend. xxoo
Thank you, very beautiful and heart warming ♡
Oh Linda, you’re welcome, I’m happy to know it warmed your heart. ~Jan
Thank you Jan. Your post is so heartwarming and heartbreaking (heartbreaking, because of it stirring up my own grief). It helps to know that others experience it too. I sometimes cannot wrap my brain around time passing and then life as we know it on this plane, ending. I was thinking about this a lot today, and then, your post. Thanks Jan. xo
Ruth, there are moments when the loss of a loved one is very surreal and as you say, the brain cannot wrap itself around that reality. I think as human beings, we struggle to accept mortality only to fall back into the lull of believing we have forever. It’s part and parcel of our deeply vulnerable and fragile nature, and yet, as my mom told me before she passed, “you go on, you go on to live your happy life, you go on.” The grief that comes in waves, farther and farther apart as time goes on, is still wrenching and painful. Thank you for sharing that you are in the heartbreak of this grief process too….heart to heart is how we get through it. I love you and am so glad you wrote. ~Jan xo